


Bloodline

by Thymesis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Female/Omega Male, Alpha! Rey, Exchange Assignment, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Force Bond (Star Wars), Happy Ending, Impregnation, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Omega! Kylo Ren, Unusual Bearings 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/pseuds/Thymesis
Summary: Haunted by persistent recurring dreams, Rey returns to Jakku to find her family…but the family she finds there is not the one she was expecting.





	Bloodline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cerberusia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/gifts).



“Mama!”

Rey shades her eyes, squints, and blinks rapidly. The light is practically blinding.

It takes a few seconds for her vision to adjust, and when it does, she sees a human child in a filmy white gown, dark hair intricately braided—a girl?—running at full speed directly towards her.

Rey gasps as that little body crashes heavily into her own. The child has wrapped her arms around Rey’s hips, and Rey reflexively places her hands on the child’s shoulders to steady her.

“Mama! C’mon—hurry up!” the child says, excited and carefree. “We’re gonna go swimming!”

Somehow, the child has taken hold of Rey’s hand, and now she’s pulling Rey toward some unknown destination.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” the child says impatiently. Now she’s putting the entirety of her weight into dragging a recalcitrant, confused Rey forward. “Papa says that—”

Papa—?! Rey stares. There is indeed a man up ahead. He wears only a loose bathing sarong, and perched on his bare, broad shoulders is a second child—a boy?—sporting a mop of sandy curls.

“Ah, there you are.” The man smiles at Rey. “I promised the twins a game of water sarnlo, and we need you to make the teams even-numbered…”

Ben Solo. Rey does not deign to think of him as Kylo Ren anymore.

He swings the boy off of his shoulders and down to the ground. The boy goes to stand close to his sister.

Ben holds a hand out to Rey, inviting her to take it. She freezes.

“The lake is gorgeous today, my love. I’ve never seen—”

Rey is jolted awake.

***

Once upon a time, and oh how it seemed like such a strange and faraway time, she had wished only to remain on Jakku and await her family’s return. She’d been so very, very sure that they would return for her, and she’d endured years of nigh unendurable loneliness and desert privation in her surety.

And yet, once the Millennium Falcon had finally flown her away from the only place she had ever called home, she’d never bothered to return.

Until now.

She hadn’t told any of her newfound friends in the Resistance where she was going because she knew they wouldn’t approve. She told herself that she didn’t know why she had come…but that was a lie. She knew. Of course she knew.

The sheer power of that clarion call through the Force every time she closed her eyes to sleep, that gaping, howling cavern of need— It was too sharp, too close, too reminiscent to her own agonizing past to ignore.

She’d wanted to ignore it. Really, she did. But she couldn’t.

Because, after all these years, there was someone on Jakku who was desperately awaiting her. Yes, her. _Rey_. There was a certain irony to that.

The overturned AT-AT walker was exactly as she remembered it: a battered, dusty durasteel shell of old Imperial tech in the middle of the desert wastes, stripped down to its proverbial bones long ago of any parts worth salvaging. She stopped just short of the entrance, planted her feet, and assumed a defensive position. Although she didn’t sense any imminent threat, the ingrained habits of a lifetime were hard to break.

Besides, this was his lair now, and a creature, when cornered, could be…unpredictable.

“Ben?” she called out.

Silence. Not the slightest stirring from within.

“Ben?” she tried again. “Ben, I know you’re in there. Answer me.”

A muffled sound. It was a human’s groan, parched and painful. Wordless.

Well, at least he was awake.

“Ben, I’m going to come in. Is that all right with you?”

No reply. Rey decided to take that as permission. Tentatively, she ducked her head into the shadowy interior of the AT-AT walker’s body—

The odor practically knocked her off her feet. It must have built up in the confined space, and it was…indescribable. She stumbled backwards and back into the harsh light of the afternoon desert sun, gasping for breath. Her head was spinning. She felt like she’d been punched in the gut, like somebody had tried to turn her inside-out, and everything that should have been tucked away within her was now on the _outside_ …

This wouldn’t do. Not at all. Rey fished a rag from her belt, wrinkled and stained several times over with sublight engine fuel, neutralizing fluid, astromech motivator lubricant, and Sand and Sun only knew what else, and wrapped it tightly around her nose and mouth. While the rag wouldn’t completely prevent that odor from reaching her olfactory sensors, it would help, and she hoped the pungent stench of sublight engine fuel in particular would be enough of a distraction.

It did help. When she entered the body of the AT-AT walker for the second time, the odor was distracting but bearable, and her eyes were drawn immediately to the messy, shapeless mound of old bedding in the farthest corner from the entrance.

Rey approached the mound and knelt down beside it. She shook it gently. “Ben. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.”

A head of dark, tousled hair emerged. Then, a face, pale and clammy with fever sweat. The eyes were wide, bloodshot, pupils hugely dilated in the gloom. She hadn’t seen him since that fight in Snoke’s throne room. He looked so unexpectedly weak and vulnerable by comparison now—utterly shocking.

“You came,” Ben croaked, his voice thick and harsh from disuse. “You came,” he repeated, stronger. “I knew you would. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the call to come home. I knew you’d want to help me continue the bloodline—”

A hand reached out, faster than lightspeed, to grab her between the legs. Pleasure raced like direct electrical current along her nerve endings. Rey squealed and leapt out of reach, but it was too late: He’d felt her…her…arousal.

“Wait. Is that what this is about?! All those dream visions you’ve been sending me?! Breeding?! Well, fuck you!” she gritted out. She was practically gnawing on the rag covering her nose and mouth in her newfound fury. “Since when did the high and mighty Supreme Leader of the First Order need a nobody like me to carry his offspring…?!”

Ben groaned and stood. The bedding fell away. He was completely naked, and although Rey averted her eyes immediately, she had still seen the fluid pouring out from between his legs, coursing down his thighs in thick rivulets. That fluid was where the odor was coming from, and this close, it was just—

“You don’t actually understand how this works, do you? About why I’m here, about what you’re supposed to do.” Ben peered at her. “No, you don’t. You don’t understand anything.”

Rey didn’t have the time to become irritated at the condescension implicit in his words before Ben was stumbling forward towards her, wobbly and trembling. He posed no threat whatsoever, though; he was too weak even to stand, really, and Rey caught him in her arms reflexively as he tripped and fell. His body was a dead weight, much too heavy to hold upright, and they went down to the dusty floor together.     

***

The sky through the transparisteel window is overcast, silver-gray. The gentle patter of rain taps a soothing rhythm onto the roof. It’s a lazy morning for sure, and there’s no need for either of them to rise from their bed while the sun is still hidden away behind the clouds.

She scoots closer to the broad expanse of Ben’s back and nuzzles the nape of his neck, inhaling his tender, sleepy scent. The sensitive peaks of her nipples brush against him, and he rumbles, low and sensuous, in response.

Ah. So he’s awake after all.

“Must they practice their Twi’lek Twelve-Step along my spinal cord _every_ morning?” Ben grumbles, a now-familiar but mostly good-natured complaint. “I’m trying to tell them that just because they’re awake, that doesn’t mean Papa has to be awake too…”

She chuckles and rubs the sole of her foot against the length of one of Ben’s legs soothingly. “My poor, poor, put-upon Papa…”

“This is all _your_ fault, sweetheart.”

“Riiiiiight.” She pauses. He just sounded so much like Han Solo. For a moment, her heart bleeds for what cannot be, but in the end, she chooses sarcasm over sentimentality. “Right. Because twins definitely run in _my_ family, not yours. And you just happened to fall on top of me and get yourself pregnant by accident. Yes, I remember the events of that day perfectly.”

Ben huffs with mock-offense. “Okay, fine. You tell them then. Maybe they’ll listen better to their Mama.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

But in spite of her skepticism, she reaches around and rests the palm of her hand on Ben’s swollen, distended belly. The skin is taut; there is independent movement directly beneath. She reaches out with her senses, into the vibrant energy field that is the Force, seeking, feeling, trying to touch—

—and two little luminous lives from within Ben respond…and reach out…and touch her in return.

Love. Oh, Sand and Sun, so much unconditional love! And belonging. All she has ever wanted in her life, right here, when she but holds out her hand.

A family. Her family.

No more solitude. No more loneliness.

“See? They listen to you.”   

***

Rey gasped as the vision ended. The odor—Ben’s scent—was flooding her nostrils anew, and her body shivered in involuntary response. Why—?!

Ah, right. Because the rag she’d been using to cover her face had been removed and cast aside. Now there was no escape from that odor, and it was distracting, intoxicating, maddening, and it made her _want_ , want with an intensity that was beyond the realm of her past experiences, beyond anything she had thought she had known about herself.

Her vision seemed to tunnel; her heartbeat was a deafening thrumming in her ears.

Dimly, she realized that her trousers had been torn open at the seams, exposing her. Dammit, she’d been given these clothes on D’Qar, and she’d never just been given anything before by anyone who wasn’t expecting something of equal or greater value in return, and…and…

…and Ben was straddling her hips, rubbing himself wetly, wantonly, against her.

“Rey, Rey, Rey,” he chanted, near mindless with desperation, with need. He was flushed an ugly red, and sweat dripped from his forehead, raining liquid salt onto her lips. “I’ve come here to be with you. You’re meant to be here with me. This is your destiny. Our destiny.”

Somehow, his movements were making her respond. Her body was opening, opening like a hfacca flower for wryn pollinators on their quad-wings, and suddenly her insides really were on the outside, and what was on the outside was hard and swollen and throbbing.

And then her insides-outside were inside Ben, and he was slick and hot and tight.

Perfect.

Animal lust covered her conscious thoughts like a liquid duracrete, viscous as evergreen honey at first, and then stiffening, hardening into the irresistible, single-minded imperative to thrust. Her hips jerked upwards, and Ben’s ground down in unison to meet her. A pause. She canted her hips back as Ben lifted himself up. Another pause. She could feel him clenching and unclenching impatiently. Then they came together once more, flesh meeting flesh with a sharp, ringing slap that made blue and gold sparks dance around the edges of Rey’s vision.

The pace of their thrusts accelerated rapidly, Rey laboring below and Ben laboring above, pouring his hot, fragrant fluid onto her, his big body contorted with pleasure so intense that it looked like it was practically pain, his penis erect and pointed upwards, inviting her to grasp, to stroke. Which she did, playing with the loose outer sheath of skin filigreed with veins and digging her thumbnail into the slit, it made Ben whine and pulse dribbles of milky semen over her fingers, and that made _her_ thrust all the faster.

Rey’s pleasure built and built and built, stronger and stronger, gathering low in her belly, intensifying, building some more, until at last it was an awful, monstrous knot of tension, and with absolute certainty she knew that something—something huge—was about to happen and that she was powerless now to stop it, even if she had wanted to.

Which she didn’t. Not anymore.

Ben, meanwhile, seemed to know it too. He was bent at the waist, his face buried into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and he was nuzzling and tonguing the flesh there like he would devour her alive if he could, and with a final, ear-splitting shriek, Rey _pushed_ that monstrous knot of tension up into Ben, as deep as it would go and forcing him open as he had never been open before—

“Yeeesss! Do it!” Ben hissed—

And a half-second later, the tension exploded in a gushing flood of searing, liquid heat, and they both tumbled into a dizzying spiral of simultaneous orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

They were floating, weightless, at one in their ecstasy, unable to tell where Ben ended and Rey began, and it seemed to go on and on and on forever…

…until, just as abruptly, it was over.

After it was over, Ben collapsed on top of Rey like a repulsorlift without plasma struts. He was so heavy that she could barely breathe, and perhaps it was the lack of air and thus the lack of Ben’s odor swamping her olfactory sensors that cleared her head just enough for it to occur to her that perhaps there was a more comfortable post-coital position to be found. But when she began to push him off she realized that they were still joined, and when she tried to remove herself from Ben’s insides, he moaned with such self-evident pain and distress that she felt she had to stop trying.

“Why are we—” she began, trying not to become frightened.

“Don’t worry. We have to wait. It takes time for the spark of life to ignite. Your body knows that,” Ben mumbled in response, sated and already half-asleep.

Rey couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard, and in her heart of hearts, she already understood it to be true. Copulation, mating, breeding, reproduction. She repeated the words silently in her head in every language she knew. As she stroked Ben’s damp, dark locks of hair away from his cheeks and his long, fluttering lashes, though, she wondered what they really meant.

A change, she figured, to say the least. A big change. For both of them. The enormity staggered her when she tried to think about it.

So, she didn’t. There was nothing for it now anyway. They dozed off together.

And dreamed.

***

She hears him before she can see him where he is seated in the nursery.

Ben is singing.

She lost count long ago of how many of the galaxy’s languages she can speak, yet the words sound like onomatopoeic gibberish to her. Although, given who he’s singing to, that’s entirely possible. Probable, even. Actually, she bets he’s making up the song as he goes along.

He never sings the songs of his own childhood. Too much traumatic separation, too many abrupt upheavals. He says he’d rather not remember, and she accepts it and doesn’t press. Still, she does hope that one day he’ll share the music of Corellia, of Chandrila, of long-lost Alderaan. The memories of the dearly departed Han and Leia.

Maybe someday.

He cradles two tiny, swaddled bundles, one in each arm. They are suckling. She never envied him the aches and inconveniences of pregnancy, but she does envy this particular intimacy. Maybe someday they’ll do it in the other way, and she’ll be the one to carry their offspring to term.

Maybe someday.

Or maybe Ben will cycle into fecundity again first, and he will retreat into self-imposed seclusion, and she, his bondmate, will have no choice but to follow him.

For now, though, the twins are enough, and Ben has that which he always wanted most: Through the irrepressible imperatives of their bodies, the noble bloodline that began with Anakin Skywalker on humble Tatooine is secure.

And as for her?

Well, she also has what she always wanted most.

Ben stops singing when he sees her. She sits down beside him and takes one of their precious children from his arms. She shares a sweet, lazy kiss with him. There is peace…and light. Balance. Their family is strong in the Force, and the Force is strong in their family. It surrounds them, binds them.

Together, they will grow and flourish.

“Welcome home, Rey,” Ben says with a smile.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on April 2, 2018.


End file.
